


You're Mine

by dreamerbydawn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Ian, M/M, Protective Mickey, Soft words, [Spring break draft clean up]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 05:06:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbydawn/pseuds/dreamerbydawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian Gallagher is a lot more than a piece of meat for geriatrics viagroids to get their hands on. And even if he doesn't know that, even if he doesn't know what he is anymore, he knows now that he is Mickey's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Mine

No one had even realised anything was wrong up until Ian slammed his large hands into the dinner table. 

"Will you fucking look at me?" He demands of the one person that's not already staring at him like he'd grown a second head. 

Lip shouts till he's blue in the face and Fiona and Debbie have a set of lungs no them, Carl can kick up a fuss and even Liam has thrown tantrums that demand attention. Ian had always been the one to settle for calm rage instead of the frustration he was displaying now. 

"What Mickey? You want me to get on my knees and beg? You want to fucking hit me? What the fuck do you want?" Ian asks, glaring at his boyfriend. 

If Ian shouting like that was unusual, It was nothing to the sight of Mickey Milkovich ignoring Ian and ignoring the offer for a fight really. If anything, those are the two things he didn't ignore. 

"Fine. Fucking fine. Do what you want" Ian huffs, straightening up and preparing to leave, still not acknowledging anyone else in the room. 

"Fuck what I want" Mickey finally bites out "You go right ahead and do what you fucking want. You love having people look at you like you're a fucking piece of meat anyway"

Ian freezes at the words, one hand already at the door and another fisting with the need to punch something. He didn't fucking want this. He didn't want any of this. Hell, the thing he really did want was the marks Mickey left on his skin but fuck his job and fuck Mickey. 

"Yeah well it's that or people don't fucking see me at all!" Ian snaps, turning back around to meet the blue eyed gaze finally on him. 

He knows how that sounds, he knows how pathetic it is just like he knows he's a little bit vain. He has to be if he enjoys the attention from sleazy old geezers at the club. 

“I can do everything right and kill myself trying to do my best and no one gives a fuck. Hell my own mother fucking pimped me out and except for Fucking Frank who needs someone to hit, the only time i’ve ever mattered to anyone is because i’m attractive." Ian screams out, the exhaustion from the black hole filling up his head finally showing.

"No fuck that, it’s because i’m a good fuck. So i'm fucking used to it" he corrects, a hand rubbing at his mouth while glaring at his partner "And I don’t even get why you give a damn. People can slobber over me all they want, it’s you I go home with. It’s you I actually want. And it’s only ever been you.”

Whatever Mickey had been expecting, that hadn't been it. He pushes himself to his feet, hands held out in surrender as he whispers "Christ Ian -"

“No. You don’t get to say shit." Ian snaps "Don’t pretend you care about anything that isn’t my dick or my muscles or whatever the hell else about me you like." 

The words are like a punch to his gut and Mickey can feel his anger begin to stir as Ian ploughs on. 

"But for the record? It’s yours. My body, it only belongs to you and none of those assholes are going to touch more than the minimum the club allows. So grow the fuck up and quit whining about having to share your toys because we need the damn money” 

Ian has barely got the last words out when Mickey surges forward, one quick motion is all he takes to pin Ian back against the door, the dangerous angry glint trademarked to Mickey Milkovich present in his eyes. 

"Okay asshole, listen up." The older boy orders "It’s not my fucking fault that you are a great fuck with a pretty face alright?" 

It's Ian's turn to look like he'd been slapped in the face, the last thing he needed being Mickey calling him out on this a second time. Where last time he'd felt heartbreak, he now feels defeat.

"Jeez Mick, thanks for-" He starts dryly when Mickey presses into his chest and talks right over him. 

"Shut the fuck up and listen. It’s true. But fuck you if you think that’s all you are -" He begins to say when Ian cuts in. 

"That is all I am" He informs plainly and the firmness with which Ian says those words has Mickey's anger fading a little. 

"Jesus man, I wouldn’t still be here for just that." He breathes out "How dumb are you Gallagher?" 

"Whatever, it’s all i’ve ever been to anyone and i’m fucking fine with it." Ian shrugs, hands finding it's way into the space between them to shove at Mickey's chest "So get the fuck off of me." 

Mickey allows himself a step back as he says "Not to me." 

"You’ve never been just a fuck to me. Not since the day you stupidly broke into my house. Not ever." He insists, eyes pleading for Ian to understand that. 

"Yeah? You're nothing but a warm mouth to me" The redhead quotes, the words making Mickey flinch. 

"I wanted to believe that okay?" He admits "I wanted to think you weren’t all you - but fuck Ian. I’ve never - you’re more than - don’t do this again man. Just - fuck." 

The Milkovich can hardly string his words together, not really having gotten any better at articulating his feelings. Ian's eyes were on his lover, Mickey's distress clear to him. 

"Forget it Mickey, i'm fine" Ian sighs. Somehow the fights they had that included words drained him a hell lot more than the swinging fists. 

"No wait - listen." Mickey pleads, hand snagging Ian's wrist "I know you think no one gives a fuck about you."

In front of him Ian doesn't even try to deny the statement. Why would he when he so firmly believed it to be true?

"The days you were gone? They were fucking hell." Mickey finally says. He doesn't care about the audience or that he's dredging up memories or dark days, he cares that Ian understands, that Ian stops hurting so bad. 

"And Mandy - she missed you as bad as I did. Two days you don’t text her and she got ready to find you and drag your ass back. And Fuck, I wanted her to. So whoever you matter to or don’t matter to, Me and Mandy? You’re all we’ve got." The Milkovich confesses, glancing up to see if any of this was getting through to Ian. 

"You’re family. And we - I - " he struggles to say when Ian moves, quick and efficient so he has Mickey pinned next to the door now. 

"Don't you dare." He growls out "Don't you dare fucking say it now Mickey. Not like this" 

"Then fucking trust me" Mickey begs softly, the words making Ian slump a little, new waves of defeat hitting him hard. 

The taller boy leaned down, brushing his lips against Mickey's in a chaste kiss, a sad smile tacking at the corners as he drew back. 

"I trust you. I don't trust me" He murmurs into the half inch between them "I don't know what I am."

Mickey reaches out to cradle the back of Ian's head, tilting forward so he can press their foreheads together. 

"You're mine"

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really remember writing this so i'm not quite sure if this was meant to be the end or if I intended to continue. I'm not sure why the rest of the Gallaghers were in the room when they didn't say a word. I really have no idea. 
> 
> Still, it seemed finished...so I hope you didn't hate it!


End file.
